[203] Designing
and fabricating the Viking lander was a difficult task. Engineers
at JPL could draw on their experiences with Mariner systems as
they worked on the orbiter, but the lander team was tackling a new
field. The men in California completed the orbiter with relatively
few technical difficulties; but the contractors at Martin Marietta
in Denver, breaking much new technological ground, encountered
many problems. The lander was far more complex than NASA's
previous unmanned lander, the lunar Surveyor, and Viking's goals
were more ambitious. Viking was twice as heavy as Surveyor; it had
two cameras for stereophotography and a complement of very
sophisticated scientific instruments, and it was destined to land
on a planet far more distant than Earth's own moon. The Viking
lander represented a series of clever inventions in answer to
specific problems. While this inventiveness can be seen clearly in
the creation and fabrication of the biology instrument and the gas
chromatograph-mass spectrometer, the NASA-contractor team also
developed a host of other new solutions to meet new technological
demands.

As with the orbiter, the first priorities
of the Viking managers in dealing with the lander were
establishing spacecraft specifications, selecting an organization
to build it, and forming key teams to do the work- industrial,
managerial. and scientific teams. Team-building began months
before the official approval of the Viking program when Jim Martin
at Langley Research Center selected some of his top people from
the Lunar Orbiter team. For deputy project manager Martin selected
Israel Taback, spacecraft manager for Lunar Orbiter. Iz, as he was
called by his colleagues, had joined the Langley staff in 1942 as
a mechanical engineer on graduation from Cooper Union Engineering
School. He successively headed the Instrument calibration
laboratory-a group developing aircraft flight instruments-and the
navigation and communications branch at the Langley center. Gerald
A. Soffen, Viking project scientist, once noted that while Taback
might have looked like a tailor among the engineers and managers,
he was the wizard behind the Viking lander. If any one man could
be awarded the title "father of the lander," it was Taback.
1

[204] During the
summer and fall of 1968. Taback supervised the progress of the
contractors studying various technological approaches for landing
on Mars. General Electric was investigating hard-landers;
McDonnell Douglas Astronautics was examining soft-landers; the
Boeing Company was studying propulsion and landing systems; and
Hughes Aircraft was looking into low-cost landers, support
modules, and mission reliability. In Denver, the Martin Marietta
Corporation was winding up a study of direct versus out-of-orbit
entry for the lander. 2 These early studies helped define the shape and
size a Mars lander would have for a Titan-launched mission. They
also drew attention to subjects that would require special
handling. Taback and his associates at Langley worked constantly
with the contractors so that their latest ideas for alternative
approaches to lander design could be debated and evaluated in NASA
circles.

As Taback's people and the contractors
worked on general approaches to lander design, Jim Martin took
steps to begin definition of the science payload. In August 1968,
he established a science instrument working group under the
chairmanship of G. Calvin Broome. Broome, who had joined Langley
in June 1962, was manager of the photographic subsystem of Lunar
Orbiter, overseeing design, fabrication, testing, and operation of
the instrument that would photograph the lunar surface. Just 30
years old in the summer of 1968, Cal Broome was given a major
responsibility for Viking. His working group, a subdivision of the
Mission Design Steering Committee, would oversee all the
preliminary planning for the scientific payloads for the orbiter
and lander. Essential to its work was an understanding of the
interactions among the various lander experiments, especially the
interfaces among the surface sampler, biological instrument, and
gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer experiments being proposed for
the mission. 3

With the definition of the lander and
science hardware taking shape, Jim Martin needed a project
scientist. He first took measure of Gerald Soffen during a 1967
briefing, when Soffen, a senior scientist at JPL, described his
abbreviated microscope as a possible life detector. The scientist
impressed Martin with his technical competence and his enthusiasm
for Mars exploration. Jerry Soffen, 42 years old in 1968, was one
of the early members of the exobiology community. After receiving
his Ph.D. from Princeton University in 1960, he had been a U.S.
Public Health Service fellow at the New York University School of
Medicine. Shortly after he joined the JPL staff, he took part in
devising instruments for detecting life on Mars, in the science
planning for Mariner B, and in the development of automated
biology laboratories. Before the demise of Voyager, Soffen had
been deputy project scientist for that endeavor. With this
background, he had the necessary stature in the scientific
community that Martin was sure would be needed by the project
scientist of a 1973 Mars landing mission. 4

In August 1968, Edgar M. Cortright,
Langley director, asked JPL Director William H. Pickering to
assign five JPL staff members to the
[205] Virginia
center for six to nine months of temporary duty. Of those
requested, four had taken part in capsule systems advanced
development activities at JPL. The fifth was Soffen. Pickering and
his managers were unhappy about this request. At that time,
Langley and JPL were competing over Mars mission proposals, and
did not seem to be in JPL's best interests to send its specialists
to help the competition. Pickering told Cortright that if Langley
wanted Soffen, then Soffen would have to resign his position and
join the civil service staff at Langley. Soffen recalled that he
felt like a pawn in a game of planetary chess. Cortright could not
promise that the Langley proposal for a 1973 Mars mission would be
approved, and if it were not, Soffen could find himself a solitary
scientist awash in a sea of engineers in Tidewater Virginia. If he
stayed at JPL, he would be able to keep alive his vital contacts
with other space scientists, but he might also miss the
opportunity to lead the first landed scientific investigations of
Mars. Cortright ultimately persuaded Pickering to agree to
Soffen's temporary assignment to the Langley Mars 73 planning
project, but only after an appeal to John Naugle at NASA
Headquarters. 5

Reflecting on his decision to move from
California, Soffen commented that morale and leadership also
affected his desire to make the change. In the months immediately
following the termination of Voyager, the planners at JPL were in
turmoil. At Langley, the situation was different. Cortright and
Martin wanted their 1973 project to become a reality, and Martin
especially pursued this goal with single-minded zeal. If sheer
will and determination could make something happen, then Langley
would be the center that landed spacecraft on Mars. Appreciating
this aggressive spirit, Soffen forced the issue of his being
detailed to Langley by purchasing a house in Hampton, Virginia. In
the face of a determined Soffen and a solid front in the NASA
management, Pickering had to let Soffen go east.
6

A TEAM OF SCIENTISTS

Setting up the science instrument working
group and appointing a project scientist* were part of Langley's strategy to gain an early
definition of the scientific aspects of the landed mission.
Prospective industrial contractors would, in turn, have a
reasonably good understanding of the problems in building the
lander and incorporating the scientific instruments into it.
During the second half of 1968, Jim Martin, Jerry Soffen, and A.
Thomas Young began talking to scientists. Tom Young would have a
very difficult assignment as science integration manager; he would
often be surrounded by the conflicting demands of Martin, project
engineers, contractor engineers, and oft-complaining scientists.
Another 30-year-old, a mechanical engineer with a second degree in
aeronautical engineering, Young was a native Virginian and a
graduate of the University of Virginia.
[206] He had
joined Langley in 1961 and managed the mission-definition phase of
the Lunar Orbiter project. 7

Together, Young, Martin, and Soffen went
in search of science team members for a 1973 mission. At the
outset, it appeared that NASA Headquarters preferred that Langley
deal with "inside" scientists; that is, persons already receiving
support from the Office of Space Science and Applications. But the
managers at Langley wanted to cast their net as widely as
possible. 8 Their philosophy was outlined in a document,
"Selection Criteria for Team Membership," circulated by Jerry
Soffen in early December 1968. It began, "Rarely are scientists
assembled in loosely bound organization and asked to perform and
make intelligent compromises." As a rule, they act as individuals
with considerable control over their own research efforts. For the
Mars lander project, a group of scientists would have to work "in
concert" to select the best plans for developing instruments that
might be used several years later. In addition to projecting the
wisest technological approach, the science team would have to
handle "engineering problems, financial problems, political
pressure, not to speak of scientific unknowns. The quality of
brilliance is likely to be in more abundance than wisdom and
certainly more than experience." An "absolute prerequisite " for membership on the science team was
"complementarity to other members of
the team ." The guidelines also
noted that usually scientists were identified with a specialty.
For this team, however, persons with scientific breadth and an
ability to cooperate with others would be more important assets.
Strictly discipline-oriented persons would be a liability.

"The most difficult candidates to evaluate
are likely to be the new or unknown faces." Some of the newcomers
might be "well-meaning-but-not-too-useful" scientists who were
attracted to the project because they believed that "the space
program might be a nice lark for awhile." Others would not
understand that participation in a spaceflight project required a
minimum commitment of five years. The burden of ferreting out the
good scientists rested with Soffen and his colleagues at Langley
and NASA Headquarters. The guidelines cautioned, "An unknown name
should not mean that the candidate is relegated to a second rate
position." But the NASA managers could not afford to accept an
only candidate for a position either, hoping he would "workout."
Obviously, "the time for bringing up doubts is during selection
not after the choice" was made, when dismissal would be difficult,
awkward, and embarrassing.

While "scientists do not like to make
decisions any more than other people," someone would have to be
the "General" when science and democracy failed to resolve
problems. It was, therefore, important for Soffen and his
associates to consider which of the scientist candidates would
make good leaders. Team leaders certainly had to be good
communicators, with their teammates and with other members of the
project. One last thing had to be kept in mind during the search:
Teams "should not be too large. Five are a democracy, six an
assembly, and more than eight lead ultimately to confusion and are
often uncontrolled." 9

[207] The need
for three basic lander science teams had been identified by
December 1968-imaging, organic analysis, and life detection. The
scientists on the imaging team would represent the most mixed set
of disciplines, since the goals for that experiment were so broad.
Each field of inquiry anticipated some useful information from
lander photography. "The biologist has hope of finding something
interesting. The geologist expects clues to the surface
characteristics. The mineralogist could make some deductions about
the surface composition." Cartographers, geographers, and
engineers working on landing maneuvers and planning future
spacecraft for Mars would all have an interest in the images from
the landers' cameras. While most of the specialists who wanted to
be included on the imaging team were more interested in the
information the system would obtain than the development of the
instrument itself, some would have definite suggestions about the
technology. To translate these suggestions into specifications
that the contractors could use in building hardware. a very
talented instrument engineer would also have to be assigned to the
team so that Langley's plans for a facsimile camera on the lander
could be realized. The name for the camera was borrowed from the
technique in telegraphy in which a picture is divided into a grid
of small squares. The brightness of each square is converted into
an electrical signal, and a sequence of such signals transmitted
to a receiving station. The sequence is converted into an
equivalent array of light and dark shades, and a "facsimile" of
the original picture is produced on a photographic film. In 1968,
the facsimile camera for aerospace applications was a relatively
new tool, and the imaging science team would have to learn many
new lessons in the development of that instrument for Viking.
10

It was generally agreed that the imaging
team leader would need to be familiar with facsimile camera
technology, experienced in photo interpretation, and well versed
in other major aspects of the mission. He would need a geologist
colleague who was a "field scientist familiar with a wide variety
of terrain and experienced in interpreting photos." And that
geologist would have to be acquainted with the major theories on
the formation of Mars. A biologist for this team would be
difficult to find according to Soffen. There just was not a large
group of "first rate field biologists from which to choose," and
of these only a small number were interested in exobiology.
Interpreting the images from the standpoint of mineralogy and
inorganic chemistry might be done by a geologist, biologist, or
related specialist. Analyzing the effects of the braking rockets
on the landing zone-called site alteration-might require
additional expertise, depending on the mode of terminal descent
chosen. Obviously there would be more to Martian imagery than just
taking pictures. The photographs would provide many important
clues to scientists, and the system would likely be the eyes of
the landed spacecraft, relaying important messages to Earthbound
engineers.

For the organic analysis team, five
different specialties were required-organic chemistry, gas
chromatography, mass spectroscopy, inorganic chemistry, and
meteorology. The organic chemist in the group must be a
[208] specialist
in pyrolysis, since "the central theme of the experiment is the
reconstruction of the organic [compounds] from the analysis of the
end products of thermal degradation." For pure compounds, this
analytical work can be very complex. For mixtures of compounds,
the task is exceedingly difficult. "For mixtures in which soil
inorganics have been added, the experiment is. . . . .!!" Since
gas chromatography was a science in which the technology was
"changing every day," the specialist for this experiment would
have to be abreast of those changes. This expertise was especially
important because the information provided by gas chromatography
would help other specialists understand the makeup of compounds
they encountered in other experiments.

The heart of the entire organic
investigation was an unusual sensor called a mass spectrometer.
This instrument would examine the vapors produced by Martian soil
compounds when heated. The vapors would be drawn into the gas
chromatograph, which would separate the vapors into their
individual components. The components would then be drawn into the
mass spectrometer to be ionized (given an electrical charge) and
analyzed to identify the constituent components. Profiles for each
compound would be converted into digital form and sent to Earth.
Results of the organic chemistry analysis would give scientists
insights into compounds that might have been produced by any life
forms on Mars and identify any organic material that might be
present or might be generated at the Martian surface by purely
chemical means.11 The biological experiments were all predicated on
the detection of active life processes, but the organic chemistry
investigation would determine if any organisms had existed in the
past or if the right organic compounds were present for the
evolution of life in the future. As a cross-check on the life
detectors, the organic chemistry experiment was
all-important.

In addition to the analysis of organic
compounds, there would also be a need to examine inorganic
compounds found at the landing site. Because many of these
inorganics are found in volatile form (ammonia, carbon dioxide.
carbon monoxide, nitrogen dioxide, nitric oxide, sulfur dioxide,
hydrogen sulfide) and appear only as gases in the atmosphere, a
scientist would be included on the organic analysis team who was
"familiar with such outgassing" and the composition of "juvenile"
and secondary planetary atmospheres. A meteorologist could also
add to the examination of these atmospheric elements as he studied
the dynamics of Martian weather.

Finally, the major instrument planned for
the lander was an integrated series of life-detection experiments.
By 1968, after several frustrating years of experimenting with
sample collectors for Voyager, exobiologists agreed that a Martian
biology investigation instrument should have a common source for
sample acquisition and analysis if evaluation of the results from
the individual elements was to have scientific validity. Because
the biology investigation was to be an integrated experiment.
Soffen expected several kinds of specialists to be on the biology
team. "But more important than the
[209] specialties, there should be a good mixture
of different attitudes and experiences," since this complex of
experiments would undoubtedly be "the most controversial of the
payload." For example, the variations on a growth-detection
instrument were apparently limitless, so the biology team would
have to select the best concepts and then "be willing to defend
them as the most reasonable thing to be done." Four kinds of
biology expertise were sought for the Viking lander biology
team:

A microbiologist is
the essential ingredient, one familiar with soil growth conditions
and the problems of demonstrating viable organisms from natural
soil.

A photosynthesis specialist . Since part of the experiment is likely to be done
in the light, searching for the photosynthetic reaction, it is
important that someone familiar with these conditions be
included.

A cellular
physiologist-biochemist . This is
usually the same individual as the microbiologist, but in addition
it is desirable to find a specialist familiar with intermediary
metabolism and the internal biochemistry of organisms...

One versed strongly in biological theory ,
evolution, genesis, chemical de nova synthesis, genetics. This
theoretical job is likely to give the very fabric to the
biological goals of the mission. An appropriate person could
become the [team leader].

Soffen and his colleagues believed that an
engineer with a particularly strong background in developing
miniaturized systems would also be an asset to the biology group
in the design of the life-detection
experiments.12

To expedite the development of the lander
science instruments, the new Viking Project Office, in concert
with the program scientist's staff at NASA Headquarters, organized
the science activities into three phases- preparation,
implementation, and data analysis. The preparation period would
extend from October 1968 to December 1969, culminating in the
selection of the Viking scientific investigators for the flight.
Implementation would run from December 1969 through the final
preparations for launch. The analysis phase would begin with the
collection of the first data and end with the shutdown of each of
the instruments. Only the lander investigations were identified as
requiring a preparation phase, because the Viking managers
expected that series of experiments to be more difficult to
develop than the orbiter instruments. Orbiter investigators also
would be chosen later than lander experimenters.

Associate Administrator for Space Science
and Applications John Naugle officially began selecting
investigators for the preparation phase 27 September 1968.
Although the "solicitation for participation" did not name any
specific mission or guarantee the participants in the early phase
a place on the flight team, Naugle, program scientist Milton Mitz,
and Soffen realized that those chosen in the fall of 1968 to help
define the scientific payload for the lander would have an inside
track toward selection as investigators for Viking. And
everyone-managers and scientists-recognized
[210] that the
development of an atmospheric probe-lander and the scientific
instruments for a Mars lander would "require a long lead time."
Considering also the highly integrated payload, the
interdisciplinary nature of some of the proposed instruments, and
the basic complexity of the lander design. NASA had no choice but
to bring scientists into the planning phase at the very earliest
point, even if this later made objective selection of the flight
team scientists more difficult.13

The flight team investigators would be
responsible for developing the functional specifications for the
instruments and for providing direct guidance in all aspects of
instrument design and construction. Including scientists in all
stages of experiment definition, design, development, fabrication,
testing, and operation was an attempt to preclude a problem that
had plagued many of NASA's programs: the conflict between the
builders of scientific instruments and the users of the data
collected from them. Outside the arena of spaceflight, scientists
have traditionally built or at least closely monitored the
construction of their own experimental apparatus. Indeed,
scientists were often judged by their peers on how well they
executed the design of their hardware. With the shift from
experiments on the laboratory bench to instruments that had to be
integrated into the multiplicity of spacecraft systems, a rift
grew between the persons who conceived the experiments and
analyzed the results and those who actually built the hardware. An
exobiologist might conceptualize an investigation and even builds
bench prototype, but any elements of an integrated biology
instrument would likely be built by a contractor specializing in
the design and fabrication of flight hardware. This new division
of labor did not often please the scientists, especially when
engineers took an "I know how to do it better than you" stance. To
avoid this problem in Viking, Naugle and the other NASA managers
wanted the scientists working with the project from the very
beginning." 14

On 11 February 1969, after the
headquarters' Space Science and Applications Steering Committee
had evaluated the many proposals sent them by potential
investigators, Jim Martin sent letters to 38 scientists, inviting
them to participate in the preparation phase of project planning.
While some familiar names were among the scientists, many were
also newcomers to space science. Soffen's objective of
incorporating new talent into the teams had been realized. All the
invitees accepted, and their first meetings at the Langley
Research Center were the inaugural sessions of the Viking science
instrument team. 19-20 February, and the Science Steering Group,
21 February. 15 These meetings gave the scientists an overview of
the entire project, introducing them to current activities, the
project's methods of operation, and the schedule. Scientific
objectives were discussed with respect to the existing knowledge
of Mars and the investigations planned for Mariner 1969 and
Mariner 1970 spacecraft. The scientists were also briefed on their
responsibilities and the manner in which the teams and the
[211] Science
Steering Group would function. Mission design, engineering facts
of life ("engineering constraints"), and hardware design (lander,
orbiter, and scientific instruments) were summarized, as well.
16 On 25 February, NASA Headquarters officially
announced the selected preliminary Viking science team members.
17 The list was along one, and the number of teams had
grown to eight (see appendix D).

During the next six months, each science
team planned instrument development. At the February Science
Steering Group meeting, Jim Martin had told the team leaders that
their science definitions should clearly state the scientific
values of the instruments and the definitions "should be so
complete that they may be used as a guide in preparing preliminary
specifications for spacecraft design." The scientists were
responsible for defining their potential hardware needs.
18 Viking planners had initially agreed to include a
"science definition" in "Mission Definition No. 2," but that
official statement of Viking science objectives promised to be too
lengthy. 19 Only the essential data would appear in the mission
definition, while the more detailed information would be included
in a reference work, "Viking Lander Science Instrument Teams
Report." Lander contractors would use both documents as sources of
information about the proposed instruments and a guide to
scientific rationale as they determined how to increase the
scientific capabilities of the lander. 20

Potential scientific investigators
received the "Announcement of Flight Opportunity for Viking 1973"
in early August 1969. This package of materials, which included
the instrument teams' reports and the mission definition, would
guide scientists who wished to work on one of the suggested
experiments or who wanted to propose alternative versions of
existing experiment proposals or additional experiments.
21 (See appendix D for an excerpt from one of the science reports.)
Concurrent with the final revisions of the science instrument
reports, the Science Steering Group recommended at its July
meeting that the weight of Viking lander science instrumentation
be targeted at 41 kilograms rather than the original 32 kilograms.
The extra weight would permit consideration of a number of
important additional goals that had been identified as desirable
if a larger payload was possible." 22

With the completion of three major
documents-the "Viking Lander Science Instrument Teams Report,"
"Viking Mission Definition No. 2," and the "Science Management
Plan"-the science instrument team's work was essentially
completed. The next step was the reception and evaluation of the
science proposals in response to the flight opportunity
announcement. More than 300 persons had attended the two day
pre-proposal briefing for Viking science. By the 20 October
deadline, NASA had received 150 proposals. Since 5 of these were
considered dual proposals and 10 presented additional instrument
options that had to be studied, the total number of items to be
evaluated reached 165. They were divided into nine groups.

[212] Table 36

Viking Science
Proposals

.

Lander

.

Orbiter

.

Experiments

Number of

Proposals

.

Experiments

Number of

Proposals

.

.

Imaging

14

Imaging

17

Molecular analysis

19

Proposals for experiments
requiring additional instruments

27

Active biology

13

Radio science

27

Meteorology

11

Entry Science

15

Proposals for experiments
requiring additional instruments

22

As part of the evaluation process, Mike
Mitz, program scientist at headquarters, made these proposals
available to the four subcommittees of the Space-Science and
Applications Steering Committee-Planetary Biology, Planetary
Atmospheres, Planetology, and Particles and Fields. Each proposal
was reviewed by at least one subcommittee. The steering committee
recommended 12 experiments and 6l scientists to John Naugle, who
concurred on 15 December (see appendix D and table 37). Of the 8 lander experiments, 6 had
been proposed during the preparation phase of the lander work; 2
were new investigations suggested by outside scientists, and l of
the major instruments proposed for the lander during the early
planning phase, the ultraviolet photometer, would not be flown.
23

In the course of selecting the scientific
experiments for Viking, Jim Martin expressed some reservations to
Ed Cortright: "The proposed science payload represents an
escalation in science objectives which is likely to lead to cost
increases beyond those estimated in our assessment." His concern
was especially strong for the experiments not previously examined
by science instrument teams. Cost problems could be generated by
the entry-science retarding-potential analyzer, the lander-science
physical properties investigations, or the magnetic properties
experiment. "These additions, when coupled with the problems of
using the [gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer] to measure water
and adding a gas exchange, investigation to the biology
instrument, add up to a potential overrun.....Martin was also
worried about some of the scientists chosen for the work. He told
Cortright that lessons they should have learned over the course of
the preceding year were not being implemented. "Specifically, the
Biology Team has the same group of men who demonstrated an
inability or unwillingness to work together, the [Molecular
Analysis] Team has two members only interested....

[213]
Table
37

Key Dates in Assessment of
Viking Science Proposals

.

11-12 Sept. 1969

Pre-proposal briefing for
potential experimenters.

20 Oct. 1969

Proposals due at NASA
Headquarters.

23 0ct. 1969

Copies of proposals due at Langley
and JPL; meeting held at Langley to discuss
proposals.

Selection of Viking science
payload by John E. Naugle, associate administrator for
space science and applications, based on SSASC
recommendations.

....in water detection who will interfere
with achievement of the team's primary objective, and the Entry
Team has the same two members who have demonstrated many times an
inability to work together." 24

Martin had good reason to be worried about
possible cost escalations. On 3 September, Don Hearth's Planetary
Program Office held a Viking science review with Langley
personnel, Office of Space Science and Applications program
chiefs, and Dr. Henry J. Smith, deputy associate administrator for
space science. The objective was to establish weight- and
cost-limit goals for Viking science activities. Later decisions
about overall Viking costs and flight instruments could be made
using these guidelines. Some of the more significant decisions
reached at the 3 September review were on reduction of the lander
science instruments' total weight, development of backup
instruments for the gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer and the
biology instrument, and specific dollar limits on science
spending.

As result of the early fall meeting, the
science planners reverted to the 32-kilogram limit on science
instruments, dropping the 41-kilogram
[214] proposal
made by the Science Steering Group. The major difference between
the two weight packages was the addition of a separate mass
spectrometer for determining lower atmosphere constituents.
Hearth's view was that the additional scientific information they
could obtain with that instrument could not be justified when they
considered its cost. He believed that the first gas
chromatograph-mass spectrometer measurements after touchdown would
be sufficient. Weights and costs of the 32-kilogram science
payload for the lander were summarized in September 1969 (table
38).

Table 38

Estimates for Lander
Payload, September 1969

.

Item

Weight (kg)

Cost (millions)

.

Entry science

4.1

$4.1

Imaging

5.0

6.2

Biology

5.4

11.3

Gas chromatograph-mass
spectrometer

10.4

8.5

Meteorology

2.3

3.0

Water

1.1

1.8

Seismometry

.9

2.0

Ultraviolet photometry

.5

0.7

Total for instruments

29.7

37.6

Integration and test

2.0

5.8

.

Total

31.7

$43.4

Cost of the lander instruments was
expected to be about $1.36 million per kilogram. The orbiter
experiments were projected to cost about $0.56 million per
kilogram. Overall costs were broken down as in table 39.

Table 39

Viking Science Cost
Projections, September 1969

.

Item

Cost (millions)

.

Lander science

$43.4

Orbiter science

32.0

Support of science teams

13.3

JPL support of GCMS
development

5.6

Ames support of biology instrument
development

2.1

.

Total

$96.4

[215] With an
additional 10 percent for contingencies, Hearth established a firm
ceiling of $107.5 million for the total Viking science package.
25

Looking at Hearth's estimate in December,
Martin believed that they were selecting too many members for the
experiment teams. "The total number of team members and
participating scientists has increased beyond our budgeted
estimates and considerably beyond what the [project office]
believes is required to achieve the mission objectives." The
budget called for 55 scientists; 61 had been selected. Martin
would have been happy with fewer than 40. (By flight time, the
number of science team members would grow to 80.) Although Don
Hearth's Planetary Science Office had told all the scientists that
the payload selection was tentative pending negotiation of a
contract for each instrument and an individual contract for each
scientist, Martin personally believed that it would be extremely
difficult for NASA to drop any scientist or investigation. The
"pressure will be on to consider an increase of a few million
[dollars] as acceptable; it will come out of our contingency
allowance and avoids unpleasantness between [the Office of Space
Science and Applications] and the science community."

Martin feared that in a few years when all
these reasons for the increased expenditures had been forgotten,
he and the Viking Project Office would be held responsible for not
properly managing their funds. With only $102 million set aside
for total project contingency costs (a small amount compared to
other major NASA projects) and the "tight funding environment"
that everyone expected to face for several years, it appeared to
Martin that "a prudent manager must hold the line against
escalation in all areas of the project today." Since he saw
considerable cost uncertainty associated with the science
instruments, Martin would be especially cautious in this area.
26 Many of his concerns did become problems in the
future. There was friction among the members of the biology team,
and the costs of the biology instrument and the gas
chromatograph-mass spectrometer rose sharply. Most of these
difficulties emerged after the January 1970 schedule change from a
1973 to a 1975 launch.

Reservations aside, NASA appeared to be
well on its way to organizing a Mars lander mission. In
encouraging Joshua Lederberg to work with the biology team.
Richard S. Young, chief of exobiology, Office of Space Science and
Applications, had written that many details of the biology
experiment still needed resolving. Young sought Lederberg's advice
on NASA's "method of operation" as much as on "the science
involved in these missions." Looking back over the long road since
the early 1960s when exobiology was a very new field, Young noted,
"The science hasn't changed much since the 'Westex' days [see
chapter
3], but we are finally trying to
organize in the best say as to achieve some of the 'old'
objectives." Young and his colleagues wanted "to make this thing
work....within the constraints imposed" on them by the
administration and Congress. 27 They would need the help of many parties to reach
their goal.

SELECTING A
CONTRACTOR

[216] Selection
of a contractor to build the lander and to supervise integration
of the lander and orbiter and integration of the spacecraft and
launch vehicle paralleled in time the selection of the scientific
experiments. On 28 February 1969. Langley Research Center issued a
request for proposals on the design and fabrication of the lander
and project integration. In addition to the 20 firms directly
solicited for this procurement, 12 others requested and were sent
copies of the proposal package. Technical and managerial proposals
were submitted to NASA by the Boeing Company, McDonnell Douglas
Corporation, and Martin Marietta Corporation. All three companies
had conducted studies earlier for Jim Martin's Titan Mars 1973
team. In the process, they had developed an enthusiasm for and an
expertise in the design of Mars landers.

In April the Source Evaluation Board began
with an appraisal of the written proposals and visited the
production facilities of each of the three potential builders,
where members of the board spoke at length with company
representatives. As Administrator Thomas O. Paine noted in his
report on the contractor selection process, the board furnished
written questions to each firm before its visit. The companies
were advised that the questions covered deficiencies and omissions
as well as proposal ambiguities and that they were being given an
opportunity to support, clarify, correct, or make revisions. After
the visits, the board made its final rankings in May 1969.

Martin Marietta received the highest
overall final rating; its cost proposal was between those of the
other two bidders. The Denver-based division's technical proposal
was well organized, according to the judges on the board; its
strong points were "outstanding mission analysis and plans for
maximum science return, the communications system, the terminal
descent radar analysis, a common deorbit and descent engine, and
landing gear design." Weak points included "the power system
design and uncertain subsonic stability of the aerodynamic
configuration." NASA specialists believed these to be "readily
correctable" problems, and Martin Marietta suggested that the
inflatable-balloon decelerator (ballute) and parachute
combination, which had been proposed for slowing and stabilizing
the lander once it was separated from its aeroshell, be replaced
by a more conventional parachute.

Boeing received the second highest overall
ranking and offered the lowest cost. Boeing's proposal contained
"a well-conceived mechanical design, a redundant and flexible
communications system, and an excellent plan for launch and flight
operations." Proposal weaknesses centered on a method suggested
for dealing with the scientific instruments and the investigators,
the power system design, and deorbit propulsion. The latter two
areas would require "major proposal revisions." according to the
source board. Boeing had planned to join forces with General
Electric and Hughes Aircraft Company-GE as the subcontractor for
entry, power, data handling, [217] and attitude
control systems; Hughes as the subcontractor for terminal landing
subsystems, terminal guidance and control, terminal propulsion,
and landing gear. While the combination of these three companies
offered much "specialized experience" and while the
Boeing-GE-Hughes team plan was well organized, NASA officials
thought there were "potential management and operational problems"
in this arrangement. 28

McDonnell Douglas, with the highest cost
estimate, was ranked third. Technical weaknesses outweighed the
strengths of its proposal. And the potential strength of its
management team was outweighed by its decentralized facilities,
which were not as well suited for Viking as those at Martin
Marietta or Boeing.

Following the Source Evaluation Board
presentations, Paine met with a few key NASA employees to obtain
their views on the board's findings. Administrator Paine,
Associate Administrator Homer E. Newell, and NASA General Counsel
Paul G. Dembling subsequently met and agreed to award the contract
to Martin Marietta. 29 Paine explained that his choice for the lander
contractor was influenced by the fact that the firm had
"applicable company experience, technical capability and the most
outstanding facilities. . . .which are specially tailored to
Viking requirements." Martin Marietta's participation in early
Voyager activities and its decision to maintain a team effort with
more than 100 persons during the 1967-1969 period had "established
a strong and highly motivated" group from the top management down
through the working personnel. 30

On 29 May 1969, Paine announced that NASA
planned to award a cost-plus incentive-fee/award-fee contract for
$280 million. 31 The lander system as proposed by the contractor was
technically evaluated by the engineers at Langley to identify
changes that should be made before the formal contract
negotiations between NASA and Martin Marietta began. These
alterations were documented in a "shopping list" of 18 items over
which Langley and the new contractor negotiated. With the changes,
the contract figure totaled $299.1 million in the contract
approved by Paine 20 October. Martin Marietta's fee was targeted
at $14.52 million, but the incentive provision permitted the
company to earn more money if the contract was concluded at less
than the projected cost of $299.1 million and it penalized the
company for any cost overruns. For every dollar above the target,
Martin Marietta would lose 15 cents from the fee, while any cost
savings would bring an additional reward of 15 cents per dollar.
32

The statement of work that accompanied the
contract for "Viking lander system and project integration" was
kept as general as practical so that the number of changes in the
contract would be kept to a minimum. Other large NASA projects
like Gemini and Apollo had produced thousands of contract
modifications. David B. Ahearn in the Langley Procurement Division
would ensure that the work was done properly, but with a minimum
of paperwork. During the life of the contract, the number of
alterations made in that document numbered about 300.
33

[218]

The Viking lander design went
through a number of versions in 1968 and1969. Above one of the
four-legged configurations presented at the Viking science
instrument team's meeting 10-20 February 1968 was to be powered by
radioisotope generator and battery. One not shown arrayed solar
cells on the lander's flat top to provide power. Although RTGs
posed heat problems, the Viking Project Office preferred them.
Below, the three-legged September 1969 design added a second
camera for stereophotography amd moved the meteorology instrument
to the high-gain antenna mast.

[219] Very early
in the contract, a major modification, made necessary by the
two-year launch-date slip, was negotiated between NASA and Martin
Marietta. On 13 January 1970 following the administrator's
unexpected announcement of the change in plans for Viking, the
Langley Research Center Contracting Office notified the
contractors to stop all work authorized under the contract. That
week, meetings at JPL, Martin Marietta, and Langley began
reprogramming for the new game plan. Martin Marietta studied two
possible alternatives for a 1975 launch (table 40).
34

By mid-February, the Viking Project Office
authorized Martin Marietta to proceed with the first option and
lifted the stop-work order. Through the end of fiscal 1971 (30
June), only $87.427 million would be made available for the
project, so Martin Marietta would not be able to hire as many
persons as planned. Nor would it be able to increase employment
levels as rapidly as it had hoped under the 1973 schedule. JPL
also had to make changes in its manpower projections. Although
Martin Marietta would employs smaller total number during the life
of the lander contract, those who did work on Viking would be
employed for a longer time. As a consequence, the total cost of
the lander grew by another $44 million (see also graphs in
appendix
C.) 35

The immediately apparent increase caused
by the shift from a 1973 to a 1975 launch was $141 million. While
other factors would drive Viking costs.....

[220]
Table
41

Viking Cost Increases
Because of Launch Delay (in millions, as of June
1970)

.

Component

Viking 1973

Viking 1975

(as of June
1970)

.

Lander

$313

$360

Orbiter

202

257

Other

94

133

.

Total

$609

$750

....even higher, the economics of delaying
the project two years to meet the political pressures on the
fiscal 1971 budget were expensive for NASA and American
taxpayers.

SCIENTISTS, INSTRUMENTS, AND
SUBCONTRACTORS

The Viking project stretchout affected
management of the scientific experiments for the Mars mission.
Originally, the Viking Project Office had planned to negotiate
contracts with the scientists and select instrument subcontractors
during the first weeks of 1970, and most of the science teams met
in early January to review their plans. With the switch to a 1975
mission, that schedule had to be reevaluated and those activities
reprogrammed. On 13 January the science teams, except those
working on biology instrument and the lander imaging system, were
told to terminate their Viking activities. 36

Jerry Soffen advised all of the scientists
in late January that the Viking Project Office's main goal was to
make the transition to a revised schedule as smooth as possible,
while protecting against any unnecessary cost increases or further
schedule delays. "During this transition period," Soffen hoped
that the scientists would "not lose sight of the Viking
objectives," and he reminded them that "scientific research has
never been an easy way of life. We expect to find favorable
aspects of this Viking deferment in the form of improvements in
the investigations and the better use of Mariner 71 results."
37 The Viking Project Office worked out a procedure
for keeping the science team leaders in the instrument definition
process during the transition without having to include them in
formal contract negotiations. After selection of a subcontractor
to negotiate to build a science instrument and before negotiations
began, a technical review would be held. Martin Marietta, the
Viking Project Office, the science team, and the subcontractor (or
"vendor") would thoroughly review the procurement drawing,
especially where changes in specifications were required. The
science team [221] leader could
participate in discussions leading to prenegotiation
specification. Then, during negotiations, any additional changes
would be coordinated with the team leader through the Viking
office. 38

For the scientists as a group, the next
big gathering scheduled was the Viking science review in mid-April
1970. By that time, Martin Marietta had chosen Itek Corporation's
Optical Systems Division to develop and build the lander camera
system and was evaluating biology instrument proposals from Bendix
Aerospace Systems Division and TRW Defense and Space Systems
Group. JPL was in the process of evaluating a breadboard model of
the gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer, and Martin Marietta's
planning for the construction of the upper-atmospheric mass
spectrometer breadboard was under way. 39

For three days, 13-15 April, 42 scientists
(about two-thirds of the total team membership) met with
representatives from the project office and lander contractor.
After receiving reports from the Viking managers the first
morning, each team leader presented a 10- to 20-minute summary
report on the status of his experiment that afternoon. On the
14th, a series of concurrent team meetings gave the scientists
time to talk with their teammates and discuss matters of common
interest with other teams. Later that day, a number of special
science meetings took up investigative considerations affecting
more than one team, such as site alteration, organic
contamination, landing site characteristics, atmosphere. The final
day of the gathering was given over to a session of the Science
Steering Group. The scientists found all the meetings educational
but agreed that the smaller "think" groups they had participated
in the second day were particularly stimulating. Viking's schedule
may have been stretched out, but nearly everyone agreed that much
work would still have to be done by all to meet the 1975 launch
date. 40

The pace of work was moderately slow at
first because of the limited money available, but in retrospect
that may have been fortunate, because many technological problems
lay ahead. Three scientific instruments-the ones given first
priority for the dollars available-were particular problems: the
gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer, the biology instrument, and
the lander imaging system. ** While the story of these instruments is a tale of
amazing accomplishment, the facts also indicate that if Viking had
flown in 1973 it probably would have been launched without the gas
chromatograph-mass spectrometer and the biology instrument.
Without those experiments, Viking would have been a vastly
different mission. Those instruments were ready to fly in 1975,
and the story of their design and fabrication deserves to be told.
For the men and women who worked the extra hours, sweated out the
successive problems, and reveled in personal
[222] satisfaction when the experiments actually
worked on the surface of Mars, it was "their" lander, "their"
experiments, and "their" triumph.

Gas Chromatograph-Mass Spectrometer
(GCMS)

Development of a GCMS prototype had
initially been assigned to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory by
Langley in August 1968. This responsibility remained with JPL when
the Viking project was officially established. Before selecting a
contractor to build the flight hardware, the California lab had
the task of developing, fabricating, and testing a lightweight
portable breadboard of the GCMS that could be used to carry out
surface organic analysis by pyrolysis. Gas chromatography and mass
spectrometry in the laboratory were one thing; shrinking the
equipment to a size that could be placed on a spacecraft was
another. 41 Requirements for such an instrument were not easy
to meet for a laboratory model; restrictions put on the design to
qualify it for spaceflight made it extremely difficult.

Pulverized Martian soil would be placed in
the instrument and heated to temperatures up to 500°C. The
gases given off would be carried into a gas column, a long tube
packed with coated glass beads that would selectively delay the
passage of gases according to their adsorptive qualities. The
column would then be heated progressively to 200°C at a rate
of 8.3°C per minute. Each level of temperature would release
different organic molecules, separated into narrow family
groupings. A palladium separator unit, porous only to hydrogen,
would filter out that gas, leaving only the vaporized organic
compounds, which would be drawn into the mass spectrometer to be
ionized. The stream of ions would be focused in the electrostatic
and magnetic sectors of the device. When the stream of focused
ions struck the electron multiplier tube, generating electrical
impulses, that activity would be amplified and recorded, producing
a profile of each compound. Finally, the profiles would be
converted into digital signals that could be transmitted to Earth.
42

Although the GCMS was a complex piece of
equipment, no one predicted the difficulties that JPL encountered
in its development. At first, dollars and failure to agree on
priority for the instrument's development were causes for delay.
But by the summer of 1970, serious engineering and managerial
problems were plaguing GCMS development. 43

In September 1970. Cal Broome told Jim
Martin that the GCMS, nominally under the purview of Henry
Norris's Viking Orbiter Office, was a stepchild not getting proper
supervision because of the decentralized management structure at
the lab. 44 A five-day GCMS engineering model review, held
25-30 January 1971, was a disaster. Jack Van Ness told Langley
Director Cortright that between 200 and 300 "request for action"
forms resulted from the review; he anticipated that 100 to 150 of
those items would be assigned to JPL for its attention. "It is
expected that the major output of the review will be a critical
reassessment of the requirements imposed upon
[223] the instrument
and its subsystems, with an eye towards reductions in instruments
complexity." 45 Two weeks later, Van Ness reported that JPL had
take steps to strengthen its managerial control. John J. Paulson,
head of the GCMS project office, would henceforth report directly
to Robert Parks, assistant laboratory director for flight
projects. This shift put the GCMS on the same management plane as
Mariner Mars 71 and Viking Orbiter. The Viking Project Office
hoped this visibility would help solve some of the stepchild's
troubles. 46

Jim Martin was not pleased. At a Science
Steering Group meeting 2-3 March 1971, he indicated that funding
increases, technical problems, and schedule slips had caused him
and his colleagues considerable concern about the future of the
GCMS. Although the recent management change at JPL was
encouraging, the instrument's progress would be watched closely
during the next few months. If progress was not satisfactory,
Martin would have to consider an alternate or less ambitious
design. 47 The project manager's attitude toward the GCMS
difficulties was not enhanced by his unhappiness over the science
subsystem preliminary design review at Martin Marietta on 1-2
March. The part of the PDR covering the science experiments
integration laboratory (SElL), to be built in Denver, was
particularly unsatisfactory. Martin told the lander contractor
that the SElL PDR would be repeated and that no funds would be
spent on equipment for that instrument until a satisfactory review
had been held. 48 (The SElL was canceled in July 1971; instruments
tests would be performed on the system test bed lander at Martin
Marietta.)

On 18 March, the GCMS engineering
breadboard was operated for the first time ass completely
automated soil-organic-analysis instrument. Several problems of
the kind usually associated with first tries were encountered, but
everyone in the Viking Project Office interested in the
development of the GCMS considered its major step forward.
49 Meanwhile, an ad hoc GCMS requirements review
panel, established by Martin after the unsuccessful engineering
model review in January, met to discuss possible ways of
simplifying the design. *** Preliminary results of the ad hoc panel's study
were presented at the June 1971 Science Steering Group meeting.
Martin noted several discouraging facts at this session: by this
date the start of GCMS science testing had slipped by six months
(from early 1971 to October 1971); after four years of work the
breadboard was just ready; and the GCMS was now getting too heavy.
Originally projected to weigh about 9.5 kilograms, the GCMS was
weighing in at about 14.5 kilograms. The ad hoc panel presented
five GCMS design variants with weight projections between 11 and
14 kilograms, but they requested and were given more time to study
the science impact of these alternatives. 50

[224]

.

The development model, top
left, of the gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer was the
first step toward spacecraft hardware. After a breadboard
model, completed in October 1971 to perfect functioning of
the instrument, designers worked on weight, size, and
modifications to integrate it into the lander. The mockup,
top right, is 35 centimers wide. Finally, the flight GCMS is
tested and prepared for its long journey through space to
investigate Mars.

As the reconsideration of the GCMS
continued, the Viking Project Office sponsored the first "Viking
science symposium," structured to provide extended discussions of
the chemical and biological premises on which two of the project's
major investigations-biology and the molecular analysis
experiment-were based. While much of the material presented was
old information to seasoned Mars hands, for many of the attendees
it was the first time they had been exposed to these scientific
assumptions underlying the Martian search for life. In addition,
several new interpretations of old phenomena or refined Mars data
were presented for discussion. Alan Binder
[225] of the
Illinois Institute of Technology's Research Institute suggested an
alternative explanation for the so-called "wave darkening." The
most common reason given for this phenomenon had been an increase
in atmospheric humidity as water sublimed from one polar cap and
moved toward the other. New observations indicated that the wave,
which progressed at a speed of 30 kilometers a day, might actually
be a wave of brightening. Earth-based photometric measurements had
compared dark areas to bright areas on the assumption that it was
the bright areas that were unchanging. If the bright areas were
getting brighter, then water or vegetation were not needed to
explain the change. Instead, the explanation might be some simple
mechanism, a dust storm, for example. Some microbe hunters who saw
this as one more strike against the possibility of Martian water
might not have been pleased, but the reasoning was more consistent
with other investigations that indicated limited water on the Red
planet. 51

Toby Owen of the State University of New
York at Stony Brook and Michael McElroy of Harvard reported that
Mariner 6 and 7
had provided new clues about the
composition of the planet's atmosphere. It was 95 percent carbon
dioxide. Nitrogen probably existed in quantities less than 4
percent, and perhaps as little as 0.5 percent. Traces of carbon
monoxide, molecular oxygen, ozone, and water vapor were likely.
While these were not very encouraging comments for those who
wanted to find life on Mars, Carl Sagan repeated his oft-given
summary that the only way to make such a determination was to go
there and check out the planet. Such an examination might not end
all speculation, but it would certainly give them better data. To
make that trip worth the effort, the GCMS and the biology
instrument would have to work.

The problems encountered with the gas
chromatograph-mass spectrometer were not made any better by
renewed money problems. A special meeting held 19 September to
discuss the budget led to some very bitter reactions by several
scientists. Martin told those investigators that they would have
to reduce their projected costs by a further $17 million to $22
million. Before the next discussion of the science budget
reduction in early October, Jerry Soffen received some amazing
letters in response to his comments about scientific priorities.
There was a decided lander-versus-orbiter outlook among the
scientists, and a dichotomy between the
build-the-experiment-hardware-yourself group and the more
theoretically oriented investigators.

Harold P. Klein, biology team leader, was
among the first to write. He concluded that it was more important
to get results from the lander than from the orbiter. "I say this
for a number of reasons: by 1975, we will have had several
missions to the planets-with flybys and orbiters, but no lander
mission; we have learned a great deal about Mars from the Mariner
series and so there is no doubt that these have shaped our views
of the planet, and that Mariner 9 should add immeasurably to this
store of information.'' But there had never been a direct
measurement made from or of the surface of Mars.

[226] "What I am
emphasizing is something which science recognizes as first order
science - i.e., it is generally easier to refine your techniques,
and repeat your experiments with more sophisticated equipment than
to start investigating in unknown territory." But Klein noted that
"it is much more exciting to try something completely new and
different - to do something first." He would be willing to
sacrifice the orbiter imaging system rather than subtract anything
from the landed group of experiments.

On the lander, we are proposing a number
of investigations-and while these will all be "first time"
investigations. and therefore of great potential interest, it is
obvious that some are concerned with answering really colossal
questions and others are not. It is no surprise-at least to me-
that there is a direct relationship between the magnitude of the
scientific question being asked, and the complexity, uncertainty
and therefore, the expense involved in the equipment concerned
with each investigation.

Klein would prune the orbiter science to
only that needed to support the lander. While dropping the large
imaging payload, he would maintain the atmospheric water detector
and the infrared thermal mapping device. He hoped that no lander
experiments would have to be eliminated, but if deletions were
necessary the big experiments-the GCMS, the biology instrument,
and lander imaging must be preserved. 52

Don L. Anderson, seismology team leader,
was equally strong in his opinions. "First of all, I feel that
Viking was poorly conceived from the beginning, and this, of
course, was headquarters' fault." With that shot across the NASA
bow, he continued:

The way science was selected was
ill-conceived, and headquarters was repeatedly warned that one
does not decide what needs to be done and then try to find someone
to do it. In the past, the scientists designed the experiments
and, by and large, the instrument. The Viking scientists have
little experimental experience and virtually no equipment
experience. They were chosen because they expressed an interest in
so area-not because of any demonstrated wisdom on the important
problems of Mars or of the solar system. As a group they cannot
provide you guidance in scientific policy matters of priority. As
individuals they are ineffective, because of the system, in riding
herd on their own experiments, particularly the costs.

Translated, the exobiologists might be
asking the "colossal" questions, but it was Anderson and his
colleagues who were doing experiments with which they had
first-hand experience. They could create hardware and deliver it
as a reasonable cost and on time. Anderson accepted, to a degree,
that "one can argue that the first mission to Mars should have
biological emphasis," but the realities were "that the biological
and organic experiments were not ready when the payload was
selected, are not ready now, and probably will not be ready in
1975." Anderson admitted that physical
[227] measurements,
such as seismology, were relatively easy, but that complex
experiments like the GCMS and the biology investigation were more
difficult than anything NASA had ever flown. One could argue
parenthetically that the molecular and biological investigations
were closer to real laboratory science than anything ever done
before in space. These experiments required more than data
gathering; they demanded elaborate manipulations of sample
materials in miniature laboratories. As he noted, such biological
investigations as these were "not even routine measurements on the
Earth." They were "not ready to fly a biological mission to Mars.
Even if the instruments arc ready the chances are high that they
will not work on Mars, and if they do, will give ambiguous
results." This team leader represented one camp of scientists who
wanted to make "straightforward" measurements; Klein and his
associates preferred to pioneer a new "first order" science in
space. There were strong arguments for both points of view, which
did not make Soffen's or Martin's tasks any easier. The Viking
Project Office managers had their hands full-with complicated and
troublesome hardware, independent and troublesome scientists. A
firm discipline would have to be applied to both.
53

The issues raised in the September-October
1971 Science Steering Group meetings would not be resolved
immediately. But the discussions led to several changes, as the
minutes recorded:

1. Reduction of science team support-By
deleting certain efforts of the scientists, holding fewer
meetings, and supplying less assistance....This will save 33
M[illion].

2. Reduction of the Molecular
Investigation-Current technical problems with the GCMS have
resulted in substantial cost increase over the original estimate.
Most team leaders agree to the importance of the investigation but
feel that there should be a cost ceiling. By reducing the
requirements and simplifying the instrument, it should be possible
to assure technical feasibility and to bring the costs down to a
level consistent with the present project plans ($35 M). This
involves a reduction of the number of samples analyzed, deletion
of direct [mass spectrometer] analysis and [deletion of a detector
portion of the gas chromatograph]. The cost saving is $3.0
M.

3. Relaxation of the Biology Instrument
Requirements major requirements involving temperature control and
waste management, and several minor ones, can be relaxed at
considerable savings....The total cost reductions of $2.0 M has
been agreed upon.

5. Reduction of Meteorology
Investigation....to result in a "weather station" type
experiment....The saving should be $1.6 M.

6. Limitation of the Physical Properties
Investigation to Current Baseline... [The saving would be $0.15
M.]

7. [228] Use of
fixed masts for the Viking Lander Cameras....The cost saving is
$0.3 M.

8. End Mission B at the beginning of
conjunction. . . . The savings are essentially in operations: $0.5
M. 54

These changes totaled up to a possible
saving of $11.5 million. Decisions that were postponed at that
meeting included eliminating photometric calibration of the
orbiter camera ($1.6 million) and deleting the X-band radio ($1.1
million), the image-motion-compensation device for the orbiter
camera ($0.4 million), the retarding-potential analyzer from the
entry science experiment ($2.3 million), and deleting either the
infrared thermal-mapper ($3.3 million) or one of the biology
experiments ($1.9 million). (Deletion of the orbiter imaging
system was also seriously considered at this time. That proposal
is described in chapter 9.)

Between October 1971 and March 1972, there
were numerous conversations among Viking Project Office personnel
members, JPL authorities, and the contractor, Litton Industries,
about the fate of the GCMS. Jim Martin was not very happy with
JPL's management of this activity, So he told the lab on several
occasions that he wanted JPL to monitor the contract the way
Martin Marietta was monitoring its science subcontracts. He did
not want JPL trying to build the GCMS; that was Litton's
responsibility. As early as October 1971, Martin was considering
finding another organization to handle the GCMS contract, and the
project office awarded Bendix Aerospace a contract to study the
feasibility of using an organic analysis mass spectrometer (OAMS)
in place of the GCMS. Similar in the information that it produced,
the OAMS did not use a gas chromatograph. To demonstrate his
concern, Jim Martin added the GCMS to the "Top Ten Problems'' list
on 26 October. "Specifically the problem is the systems design and
program redefinition of a simplified GCMS." Shortly thereafter,
Klaus Biemann and his colleagues of the molecular analysis science
team requested that Alfred O. C. Nier, the entry science team
leader, be added to their group because of his background in mass
spectrometry. 55

The addition of Nier to the GCMS activity
was another blow to JPL. He had written to Jerry Soffen in
September 1971: "While I regard a properly devised and
managed GCMS experiment as one of the most important things we
could do on Mars, the history of this endeavor leaves so much to
be desired I really wonder whether it has not disqualified itself
already." Nier thought that JPL's record in this area was
"dismal." Nier also shared Don Anderson's complaint about the GCMS
scientists' lack of experience in inventing and building
instruments. He believed that it was "most unfortunate that in
NASA's selection of the team some regard was not given to this
factor in view of JPL's weakness in this very difficult area." By
these statements, Nier did not mean to detract from the caliber of
the individuals on the GCMS team, but he felt that it was
necessary to underscore the nature of the problem facing the
project managers. 56

[229] Continued
troubles with development scheduling for the gas
chromatograph-mass spectrometer and the lack of confidence among
the scientists in JPL's ability to manage the instrument's
development and fabrication led Martin to transfer the management
of the GCMS instrument contract from JPL to his Viking Project
Office at Langley. As a preparatory measure, he announced that
effective 29 February 1972 Cal Broome, lander science instruments
manager, would report directly to the Viking project manager. This
shift was one more step to tighten control over the lander science
payload and give those experiments the visibility that they seemed
to require. Further-as a consequence of Klaus Biemann's
presentation on the GCMS and the OAMS made at the February Science
Steering Group meeting, in which Biemann had noted that each
instrument had advantages and disadvantages that could not be
directly compared-Martin decided in favor of continuing the
development of a simplified version of the GCMS. His action was
prompted primarily by the cost projections, which indicated that
it would be cheaper, by about $7.5 million, to retain the GCMS and
transfer management of the instrument to Langley. NASA
Headquarters approved this recommendation on l0 March, and Martin
appointed Joseph C. Moorman as the GCMS manager and J. B. Lovell
as the Viking Project Office resident engineer at Litton
Industries, Although the development and fabrication of the
instrument was still far from ensured, at least a more responsive
management-contractor structure had been established to deal with
the problems that would emerge later. 57

Viking Biology Instrument

Nearly everyone associated with the Viking
project realized the Viking biology instrument was going to be a
technical and scientific challenge, but no one was able to predict
just how much time, energy, and dollars would be required by this
complex scientific package. Devising a biology instrument that
held three experiments ins container less than 0.027 cubic meter
in volume and weighing about 15.5 kilograms was more of a chore
than even the most pessimistic persons had believed. Certainly the
TRW Systems Group personnel who won the Viking biology instrument
subcontract in competition with Bendix Aerospace Systems Division
did not expect its original estimated cost of the completed flight
instruments and test articles to soar from $13.7 million to more
than $59 million. 58 A box about the size of a gallon milk carton, the
instrument contained some 40,000 parts, half of them transistors.
In addition to tiny ovens to heat the samples were ampules
containing nutrients, which were to be broken on command; bottled
radioactive gases; geiger counters; some 50 valves; and a xenon
lamp to duplicate the light of the sun. It was a complicated and
sophisticated miniature laboratory.

The Viking biology instrument was
originally conceived as essentially the integration of four
individual life-detection schemes. According to....

[230]

Gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer
cost projections.

....Loyal G. Goff, Viking Program Office,
NASA Headquarters, "the transition from these early hardware
models to an integrated, automated, and miniaturized flight unit
capable of surviving all of the environmental conditions of
sterilization, launch, cruise, and landing was a horrendous
undertaking." These environmental requirements, with the
performance specifications, demanded considerable examination and
testing of the materials used in the biology instrument. The
initial design concepts for the experiment were developed by Ball
Brothers Research Corporation, Boulder, Colorado, and the Applied
Technology Division of TRW Defense and Space Systems Group,
Redondo Beach, California, under contracts managed by NASA's Ames
Research Center. 59

On 3 September 1970, when the TRW team was
given the go-ahead by Martin Marietta, four direct biological
tests had been selected for the [231] instruments that
could examine the Martian soil for traces of living organisms
through the measurement of some aspect of the metabolic process.
Three of the procedures could in principle detect "resting"
metabolism, although all would be more reliable if growing
organisms were present. The first experiment, originally called
carbon assimilation but later known as pyrolytic release, would be
performed with a minimum addition of external substances (that is,
only radioactive carbon dioxide [14CO2], radioactive
carbon monoxide [14CO], and water
vapor) to the samples. Experiment two, originally known as
Gulliver and subsequently called labeled release, was to add
extremely diluted solutions of labeled (carbon 14) organic matter
to the Martian soil samples under conditions that barely moistened
the samples. Experiment three, called the gas-exchange experiment,
provided for adding greater amounts of organic materials and water
to the samples. Because it was rich in nutrients, Jerry Soffen and
others referred to this as the "chicken soup" experiment. The
fourth experiment (subsequently eliminated) was the
light-scattering experiment, or Wolf Trap as it was better known.
Requiring the growth of organisms in the sample, this
investigation provided the least Marslike environment because it
would suspend the sample in an aqueous solution. But if
microorganisms did grow, they would turn the liquid cloudy, and
the light sensor would detect the change. Together, the four
experiments represented a range from very dry to saturated
solutions, and experimenters hoped they would provide a check on
each other while giving Martian microbes a choice of environments
in which to grow. 60

The first year of work leading up to the
preliminary design review was spent making a breadboard model for
each of the experiments. The PDR, originally scheduled for July
1971, was postponed three months so that a number of changes could
be made in the biology instrument design. In October, TRW
submitted new "estimated cost at completion" figures to Martin
Marietta; the cost had risen to $20.2 million. TRW had greatly
underestimated the complexity of the task, which accounted for
about half of the $6.5-million jump. The rest was due to
modifications in the experiment definition.

The 4-6 October preliminary design review
in Redondo Beach, California, disclosed a number of problem areas
in the design and management of the Viking biology instrument.
Rodney A. Mills, Walter Jakobowski's deputy, feared that Martin
Marietta and TRW could both be blamed for poor management.
61 Of particular concern were the complexity of the
waste management system, which would store the water and organic
materials after they had beets tested; the complicated nature of
the sampling system; the increasing instrument weight, which would
lead to higher costs; and the numerous elements that, should they
fail, would render the whole instrument useless. On I July 1971,
Jim Martin issued Viking project directive no. 6: "It is project
policy that no single malfunction
shall cause the loss of data return from more than one scientific
investigation ."
62 Each [232] of the
biology experiments was considered to be one scientific
investigation under this philosophy, and there were numerous
"single point failures" that could terminate the data return from
the instrument. At the October PDR, no single experiment stood out
as a particular problem, but Martin, Broome, and their colleges
were worried about the overall complexity of the TRW design.
63

During November and December 1971, TRW and
Ames Research Center personnel under Harold Klein worked to
simplify the biology Instrument. Deleted from the design were the
Martian gas pump, the onboard carbon dioxide gas system, one
control chamber each for the gas-exchange and light-scattering
experiments, and related valves, plumbing, and wiring. But it
became apparent at a biology instrument review in late December
that more drastic changes would have to be made. During the final
days of January 1972, Martin concluded that one of the experiments
would have to be eliminated to reduce the volume, weight,
complexity, and cost of the package. Walt Jakobowski and Richard
Young from NASA Headquarters met with representatives from the
Viking Project Office, Martin Marietta, and TRW on 24-25 January
to discuss ways to remedy the problems, especially cost, which had
escalated to $33 million. 64

That meeting was not a satisfactory one
from Jakobowski and Martin's point of view. TRW was not able to
suggest any acceptable engineering cost reduction items without
removing two or more experiments. Additionally, all of TRW's cost
reduction proposals had high-risk factors for scheduling, testing,
or both. Martin Marietta personnel who had reviewed TRW's schedule
and manpower figures were also unable to offer any alternatives.
To find solutions to their problems, Martin formed an ad hoc panel
for the examination of imposed and derived requirements on the
Viking biology Instrument under the chairmanship of Howard B.
Edwards of Langley's Instrument Research Division. While that
panel met to determine which, if any, of the scientific and
engineering requirements could be relaxed or eliminated to reduce
cost, weight, size, and complexity of the overall instrument,
Klein, Joshua Lederberg, and Alex Rich, biology team members who
were not affiliated with any particular experiment, met to discuss
priorities for deleting one of the experiments.

Dropping an experiment was a painful
experience for the men who made the recommendation and those who
implemented it. By 13 March, NASA Headquarters had decided that
the light-scattering experiment, the Investigation based on the
least Marslike premise, should be terminated. The men in
Washington cited possible difficulties in interpreting results and
a potential for further cost growth as reasons for their action.
It was John Naugle's unhappy responsibility to tell Wolf Vishniac
that his Wolf Trap would not he included in the Martian biology
instrument. Noting that "this was one of the more difficult
decisions" that he had had to make since joining NASA, Naugle told
Vishniac that they had to "simplify the biology experiment-its
history of growth in cost and complexity had
[233] forced this
position.'' In deciding how to reduce costs, the managers at NASA
had tried to consider both scientific and engineering
factors:

On the science side, we are assured that
the deletion of the light scattering experiment, while
undesirable, is the least damaging in terms of data lost. I won't
go into detail here since you have talked at length with Drs.
Lederberg and Rich on this subject. On the engineering side, it
seems that the light scattering experiment might be considered one
of the least complex in terms of number of parts and detail of
design, but is one of the more difficult to actually build into a
problem free device.

Following advice from all members of the
biology team, Naugle stressed the desire that Vishniac continue to
participate as a member of that group. 65

Although the biology team seldom acted as
a cohesive group, the decision to eliminate the light-scattering
experiment did draw members together temporarily. As a group, they
aired their dissatisfaction with the decision, the manner in which
it was made, and the limited likelihood that it would reduce
significantly the cost of the biology instrument. At a biology
team meeting in March, Dick Young and Jerry Soffen were on the hot
seat as they once again explained the need for cost reductions in
an era of tight budgets. Klein, the team leader, wrote to Naugle
on behalf of the whole group:

Naturally, the Team is not very happy that
the scope of the biological experiments was reduced...This science
reduction is all the more difficult to accept because it is not at
all clear just what factors dictated this decision. Recent
discussions with TRW....leave little doubt that no savings in
weight or in volume will follow from the elimination of the light
scattering experiment....Whether, at this late date, any cost
savings wilt accrue from the deletion is also
problematical.

While stopping short of mutiny-and still
promising to work hard-Klein said that the team wanted a better
explanation of why Wolf Trap was dropped. 66

Understandably, Wolf Vishniac was not
happy with the decision, He criticized Lederberg and Rich for not
being familiar with the development status of his experiment: "I
am shocked to find that a judgment on the value of an experiment
was based upon such complete ignorance on the present state of the
instrument..." Much of the discussion regarding Wolf Trap
concerned "matters which have long ago been settled and solved,"
Some of the data the NASA managers had used in their
decision-making process had been gathered by the Ames Research
Center, Vishniac was told by persons at Ames that they had sent
headquarters "some old reports which we had lying around," When
the scientist asked why "old" material was used, he was given some
surprising news: "It doesn't really matter, we have long ago
decided that light scattering is to be eliminated," The more
Vishniac investigated the elimination of his experiment, the more
he was displeased. [234] He believed that
there had been some anticipatory preparation for dropping Wolf
Trap. And according to Vishniac, Lederberg and Rich were not
really suited or capable of making an informed decision. "Their
aloofness from the team, their ignorance of the mechanical details
and the apparent predisposition of Ames to leave out the light
scattering experiment makes me question the value of their
recommendation." 67

In a compassionate review of the decision
and the process by which it had been made, Naugle tried to allay
Vishniac's frustration and anger. The associate administrator
pointed out that something had to give, as the budget could not be
increased. They had been forced to review and revise all of the
Viking experiments on the orbiter and lander. If Lederberg and
Rich had not participated in the examination of the biology
instrument, someone entirely unfamiliar with the instrument and
the search for life on Mars would have.

We recognized that we were asking them to
undertake a very difficult and personally distasteful job of
reviewing four experiments which had originally been very
carefully selected and had just recently been certified as
complementary and an excellent payload for Viking, and
recommending which of the four could be removed with the least
impact on the overall biology experiment. They reluctantly
agreed.

In the guidelines we gave them we said the
decision should be primarily made on the basis of the scientific
merits of the experiments since there was no substantial
engineering factor to use to select the experiments to be deleted.
. . . .

Dr. Lederberg and Dr. Rich's
recommendations were clear-that all four experiments should fly,
but if one must he dropped, it should he the light scattering
experiment. They also make it clear that although the experiment
should be dropped, the experimenter (Dr. Vishniac) should
not!

Naugle thought that the deletion would
"contribute" in a very real way to the solution of their Viking
payload problem. "I am assured that we will save at least two or
three pounds [0. 9- 1.4 kilograms] by this action. This will be
applied directly to the weight deficit already incurred by the
biology package." Additionally, space would be saved for other
biology requirements, at a saving of at least $2.3 million.
68 In the short run, the projected cost of the biology
instrument did drop, but by the fall of 1973 the cost estimates
would escalate wildly, leading to another major review of the
biology package.

Wolf Vishniac faced other disappointments
in the loss of his Mars experiment. While he continued to
participate constructively in the biology team's work, he no
longer had any NASA funds to support his research projects and
personnel. Vishniac soon discovered that he would have to pay a
high price for having gambled on spaceflight experiments. He had
been the first person to receive exobiological research support
from the agency, [235] but now
that the money was gone he discovered a hostility on the part of
many scientists directed toward those who had accepted "space
dollars." In spring 1973, Vishniac wrote to Soffen telling him
that he could not attend a particular meeting. "I will do whatever
is essential in the Viking program but I simply must place my
priorities on my university work. The consequences of my change in
status in the Viking Team have been far-reaching as you know, not
to say disastrous." He was finding it difficult to obtain support
for laboratory research because of his work with the space agency.
The National Institutes of Health had refused a grant application;
"I was told unofficially that it received low priority because I
was 'NASAing' around." The National Science Foundation had decided
not to renew a grant for Vishniac, partly because of his
association with NASA. The exobiologist told Soffen that "it is
essential that I recapture some sort of standing in the academic
world and I must therefore limit my participation in Viking
essentials only." 69

In 1973, Vishniac was still pursuing his
research into the origins of life and the possibility of life on
other worlds when he fell 150 meters to his death in Antarctica's
Asgard Mountains. Searching for life in the dry valleys of that
bitter cold and windswept region, Vishniac was attempting to prove
that life forms could adapt to extremely hostile environments.
Early in 1972, he had found microorganisms growing in what had
previously been thought to be sterile dry valleys. This discovery
by Vishniac and his graduate student assistant Stanley E. Mainzer,
using a version of the Wolf Trap light-scattering instrument, was
a bit of good news for the believers in life on other planets but
a contradiction of the findings of Norman Horowitz and his
colleagues Roy E. Cameron and Jerry S. Hubbard, who in five years
of research had yet to detect any life forms in that barren
land.

The dry valleys of South Victoria Land,
Antarctica, with a few other ice-free areas on the perimeter of
that continent, formed what was generally agreed to be the most
extreme cold-desert region on Earth. The area was also the closest
terrestrial analogy to the Martian environment. These valleys,
which covered several thousand square kilometers, were cut off
from the flow of glaciers out of the interior of the continent by
the Transantarctic Mountains. Although the valleys were ice-free,
their mean annual temperature was -20°C to -25°C, with
atmospheric temperatures rising to just the 0°C mark at the height
of the summer season. Liquid precipitation and water vapor were
almost nonexistent, and the limited snowfall usually sublimed to
the vapor phase without ever turning to liquid. It was in this
region that Horowitz's colleagues discovered what was believed to
be the only truly sterile soil on the face of Earth. From their
research in the dry valleys, Horowitz and his associates
concluded:

These results have important implications
for the Mars biological program. First, it is evident that the
fear that terrestrial microorganisms carried to Mars could
multiply and contaminate the planet is unfounded.

[236]

Scientists attented a Viking planning
meeting at Langley Research Center in 1973. Left to right are Dr.
William H. Michael, Jr., leader of the radio science team; Dr. Wolf
Vishniac, assistant biology team leader; and Dr. Richard S. Young,
Viking program scientist from NASA Headquarters in Washington.

The Antarctic desert is far more
hospitable to terrestrial life than is Mars, particularly in
regard to the abundance of water. In other respects, too - such as
she ultraviolet flux at the surface - Mars is decidedly more
hostile than the Antarctic.

Second, Martian life, if any, must have
evolved special means for obtaining and retaining water. . . .This
has been known for some time. What is new in these findings is
that even under severe selective pressure microbial life in the
Antarctic has been unable to discover a comparable mechanism. To
some this may suggest that life on Mars is an impossibility. In
view of the very different histories of Mars and the dry
valleys.....we believe that such a conclusion is not
justified.

Finally, the Antarctic has provided us
with a natural environment as much like Mars as we are likely to
find on Earth. In this environment, the capacity of life as we
know it to adapt and survive is pushed to the limit. The
concentration of living things around the sources of water in the
dry valleys and their rapid drying out in the most arid locales
may be useful as a model of the distribution of the life we may,
if we are lucky, find on Mars. 70

But in 1972, Vishniac detected
microorganisms with Wolf Trap in exactly those regions that
Horowitz had declared sterile, Life had found ways to survive in
the inhospitable, Marslike dry valleys. In December 1973, Vishniac
went back to Antarctica to learn more about these hardy microbes.
He wanted to know where they obtained their life-sustaining water
and nourishment. Alone on a steep slope in the dry valleys,
Vishniac slipped, fell, and died. 71 Vishniac and his Wolf Trap life detector had been
successful [237] on Earth, but he
would not see Viking go to Mars, and his instrument would not be
applied to searching for elusive Martian microbes. A man who had
done much to give exobiology legitimacy as a field of research was
gone. The loss of Vishniac from the biology team was repeatedly
felt in later years. He had been an arbiter and a man of good
cheer. As the biology instrument continued to increase in cost and
to raise more and more technological hurdles to be overcome, a man
with his talents and humor was sorely needed.

During the first half of 1973, work
progressed on the design development units for the biology
instrument and the gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer. Science
tests for the biology instrument had begun in mid December 1972,
with biology team members participating in the trials of their
experiments. GCMS testing began in early May. After the first
round of testing, the Viking managers held a critical design
review on 23-25 May for the biology instrument, and even though
they discovered no major problems with the package, Martin
Marietta and the Viking Project Office were less than pleased with
the review. The GCMS critical design review in mid-July disclosed
only three major concerns, which was encouraging news considering
the problems that piece of hardware had caused earlier.

Unhappily, new trouble with the management
of the biology instrument surfaced in mid-July. At a meeting held
at TRW, Jim Martin learned that completion of the design
development unit had slipped by three weeks and the projected
delivery date of the proof test capsule unit was behind by five
weeks. The problem, Martin found, was failure to plan ahead; TRW
lacked the skilled manpower to assemble and checkout these crucial
units. As the July session went on, the discussion of the biology
instrument came "unglued," according to Martin; he feared that the
work at TRW was "out of control" with no credible schedule or cost
plan. 72 By that autumn, the situation was even bleaker. On
15 October, Ed Cortright wrote to George Solomon, vice president
and general manager at TRW. Cortright had been monitoring TRW's
handling of the biology instrument problems with the intent of
reporting to Hans Mark, director of Ames Research Center. His
report was to give the center better data for judging prospective
contractors-of which TRW was one-of experiment hardware for the
Pioneer spacecraft scheduled to visit Venus. Cortright's report to
Ames would not be favorable. He thought that TRW, Martin Marietta,
and NASA had underestimated the complexity of the biology
instrument task: "The original TRW proposed cost was grossly
underestimated with the result that the current estimate at
completion is $30.9 million, which is $18.4 million or 147 percent
over the original estimate." Of that amount, $12.4 million was
TRW's overrun; $6 million had been spent on redefining the
experiments.

Cortright told Solomon that the TRW
management had placed too much emphasis on the company's previous
performance and had been reluctant to face the fact that the
biology instrument was getting into serious trouble. "You are
currently beset with a rash of technical problems....

[238]

.

The development model of the
Viking biology instrument's mechanical subsystem, top
left, conveys some of the external complexity of the
experiment. The mockup, top right, minus the essential
electrical and plumbing connections exposes the hardware
to view. At lower left, a diagram shows the biology
instrument after deletion of the light-scattering
experiment. At lower right, in final stages in 1975, the
automated equivalent of a well-equipped biological
laboratory makes up a package of less than 0.03 cubic
meter to land on Mars.

....which further threaten schedule and
cost. It is clear that if the job were on schedule, there would be
more time to adequately cope with the necessary fixes." Impressed
with the steps Solomon had taken to strengthen management of the
biology package, Cortright nevertheless believed that "heroic
action" would be necessary to ensure "a successful experiment on
the surface of Mars." 73 Two weeks later, after the schedule had slipped
even further and the biology instruments had been put on Martin's
Top Ten [239] Problems list,
Cortright again wrote the general manager about the "potentially
catastrophic" situation and sent a similar letter to Richard
DeLauer, TRW Space Systems executive vice president. To DeLauer,
Cortright bluntly said. "It is imperative that you bring to bear
on these problems the most talented individuals you can find
within your Company, and elsewhere, and quickly weld them into a
problem solving team to get this job done. I know you have taken
steps in this direction and I cannot fault individuals who are
currently working the problems. However, I must believe that you
have not yet applied your maximum effort, for which there is no
longer any substitute." 74

The problems at TRW were twofold. The
engineering tasks imposed by the experiments were very difficult,
and TRW's management of the project was poor. At very low
temperatures, valves and seals failed, and other hardware
difficulties surfaced as the initial pieces of equipment were
tested. But most serious was the absence of a strong, driving
manager at the California firm overseeing the work. In November
1973, production of the flight units was essentially stopped while
the biology instrument was redesigned. But design quality and
workmanship problems persisted, causing test failures and schedule
difficulties. To meet the launch date, TRW was required to conduct
design-development concurrently with qualification testing and
fabrication of the flight units. By the first of February 1974,
several independent analyses of the situation at TRW pointed to
the possibility that the final flight units of the biology
instrument would not be ready until July 1975. That would be very
close to the scheduled launch dates (August and September) and too
late for adequate preflight science testing.

Cal Broome, who had been appointed NASA
biology instrument manager in December 1973, in a private note to
Jim Martin on 7 February 1974, stated that his own view of the
situation at the subcontractor's was that the "engineering
organization, and, to a lesser extent, the manufacturing
organization [at TRW], are running out of control." Furthermore,
"The TRW engineering 'culture' simply cannot accept scheduling and
discipline in connection with engineering problems." Broome was
also worried that others would nut share his opinion of TRW's
failings and simply view his pessimistic outlook as a case of
Broome having panicked again; but Hatch Wroton, the Martin
Marietta resident engineer at TRW, and Dave Rogers, the JPL
resident at TRW, had independently assessed the biology
instrument's status and agreed with Broome's bleak prognosis.
75

During the remaining months before the
Viking launches, time lost in the schedule would be made up, only
to be lost again when some new difficulty appeared. In July 1974,
Martin had Walter O. Lowrie, lander manager at Martin Marietta,
and Henry Norris, orbiter manager at JPL, study contingency plans
for flights without the biology instrument and single flights of
the Viking spacecraft in 1975, 1977, and 1979. Days later,
progress on the instrument at TRW looked more promising, but by
the end [240] of the year,
when the performance verification tests of the completed
instruments were being conducted in Redondo Beach, new doubts
about meeting the schedule plagued the Viking managers.
76

The seesaw between failure and progress
finally stopped in the early spring of 1975. On 7 March, Martin
wrote to the three men who had seen the biology instrument through
some of its most difficult moments- Eugene M. Noneman, TRW; Hatch
Wroton, Martin Marietta; and Roy J. Duckett, Viking Project
Office: "I was pleased today to be advised that Viking biology
instrument S/N 106 is in its shipping box ready for delivery. I
believe that you and your team members have achieved a very
significant and important milestone. While there is still much
work ahead of us, having a flightworthy biology instrument ready
to ship to the Cape is a gratifying accomplishment." Martin
extended his personal congratulations to every member of the team.
77 On 28 May, Cal Broome could at last recommend to
Jim Martin that the GCMS and the biology instrument be removed
from the Top Ten Problems list. Those had been the final items on
the list of troubles. The hardware units were finally ready for
shipment.

Table 42

Viking Biology Instrument
Schedule, 1971-1975

.

Milestone

Original Contract

Actual

Delay

Delivery Date

Delivery Date

in Months

.

Preliminary design review

July 1971

Oct. 1971

3

Critical design review

Aug. 1971

May 1973 a

9

Design-development testing
complete (S/N 001)

July 1971

Dec. 1973 b

17

Qualification unit delivery/
qualification testing complete (S/N 102)

Sept. 1973

Mar. 1975 c

18

Proof-test capsule unit delivery
(S/N 103)

June 1973

Nov. 1974

17

Flight unit - l delivery S/N 105
on Viking lander capsule #1

Jan. 1974

Mar. 1975

14

Flight unit - 2 delivery S/N 106
on Viking lander capsule #2

Apr. 1974

Mar. 1975

11

Flight unit-3 delivery (S/N
104)

July 1974

Apr. 1975

9

Spare flight unit

Added Dec. 1973
d

Deleted Oct. 1974
e

-

a Martin Marietta contended that a realistic CDR was
not completed until Mar. 1974

b Design development testing was completed on a
nondeliverable unit: one of the deliverable units was canceled:
the other deliverable unit's mechanical subaseembly was simulated
in system test bed testing.

c Qualilication testing was different from original
plans and not as comprehensive.

d This unit not included in the original contract was
added in Dec. 1973

The cost in individual time and effort on
these two items had been high; the dollar costs were equally
great. By launch, the GCMS bill read $41 million, and the biology
instrument had cost $59 million. 78

There was, of course, more to the Viking
lander science package than the gas chromatograph-msss
spectrometer and the biology instrument. Each of the other
instruments went through a similar series of problems met and
problems solved. The GCMS and the biology instrument were unique
because of the magnitude of the difficulties and the expense. With
time, all problems with the instruments were resolved, and
interaction among the scientists improved. Still, each team
remained a collection of individuals,
[242] and among the
teams only a loose confederation existed. Before the missions were
flown, a stronger discipline would have to be forged. Operation of
the orbiters and landers would be a complex task, and each
sequential operation would have to be carefully planned and
precisely executed. Jerry Soffen, Jim Martin, and Tom Young had
many difficult tasks ahead of them, and one was establishing
tighter control over the Viking scientists without stifling their
inquisitiveness-exercising discipline so as to get maximum science
return, but not in such a manner as to eliminate flexibility when
scientific targets of opportunity appeared.

As the Viking science teams and their
instruments matured, Jim Martin faced other technical problems
with the lander, each of which had to be solved before the
spacecraft could fly. Complexity and technological challenges
abounded. Building Martian landing craft was genuinely hard
work.

* At NASA
Headquarters, Soffen's counterpart, was Milton A. Mitz, program
scientist, On 28 December 1970, Mitz left Viking to join NASA's
Grand Tour Project, and Richard S. Young became Viking program
scientist.

** Thomas A.
Mutch has described the history of the lander cameras in
The
Martian Landscape, NASA SP-425
(Washington, 1978), pp. 3-31.